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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29723913">I Prayed To The Gods Let Him Stay</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfesPuppies/pseuds/WolfesPuppies'>WolfesPuppies</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Memory Loss, Post-Canon, Recovered Memories</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:20:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,867</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29723913</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfesPuppies/pseuds/WolfesPuppies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>They save the world, Jon wakes up, and doesn't remember anything.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>169</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Prayed To The Gods Let Him Stay</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wanted to get this up before the last episode, but life conspired against me as it so often does, so it's now officially canon divergence.</p>
<p>This is the longest one shot I have written, and also one of my favourite things I have ever written. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do! </p>
<p>I have no experience of memory loss, and I will put some detailed cw's in the end notes in case people would like them.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="western">Martin closes the bedroom door quietly behind him before turning to press his forehead to it and sighing quietly before going downstairs and putting the kettle on to boil. He thought he'd be happier about what had just happened, but it just reminded him of how much they'd both lost. Today was the first day in the month since they'd bought the world back that Jon had remembered Martin's name.</p>
<p class="western">The camera had done its job, had turned the world back to how it looked in the photo, but there was a side effect no one had anticipated, not Jon, not Annabelle, not anyone. The photo was a snapshot of how the world should be, in that safe haven at Hilltop Road, and it was that how it should be that became the blueprint for the new world. The blueprint that included a dizzy and disoriented Jon, cut off from the Eye, not able to remember anything that happened inside the camera's safe zone. There had been a rush of static so loud it made them all cover their ears, a crack as the camera lens broke, and Jon had collapsed.</p>
<p class="western">Chaos had followed as phones started ringing in confirmation that it had worked, and through it all Jon remained unconscious on the floor despite Martin's best efforts. They went back to Georgie's flat first, but Basira managed to get a house sorted out for them – Martin didn't ask how, and didn't exactly plan to – and still Jon slept. It wasn't like his coma, he was still breathing, he just wouldn't wake for anything. It wasn't until a week later that he finally woke up, and when he did it was to an empty room in an unfamiliar house, and the last thing he remembered was entering the camera's influence at Hilltop Road. The only thing he remembered.</p>
<p class="western">Martin had gone running when he'd heard Jon shout, and went into the room to see him pressed against the wall, eyes wide and darting about the place.</p>
<p class="western">“Jon!”</p>
<p class="western">“Who are you? Where am I, what is this place?”</p>
<p class="western">“Jon, calm down, you're alright.” Martin tried, trying not to read too much into Jon's questions. “Just, come and sit down.” he held his hand out only for Jon to flinch back and press even further against the wall.</p>
<p class="western">“Who are you?” Jon repeated, more desperate, quieter.</p>
<p class="western">“I-Jon, it's Martin.”</p>
<p class="western">Jon shook his head. “I don't know anyone called Martin, I've never seen you before.”</p>
<p class="western">Martin took a deep breath, trying to not let on how hard his heart was pounding, how fast his stomach was sinking. “Jon, what's the last thing you remember?”</p>
<p class="western">Jon was silent for a long moment. “I-I don't know. There was a house? But not this one, I've not seen this place before. I don't remember <em>anything.”</em></p>
<p class="western">“Okay. Can you come and sit down?” Martin didn't hold out a hand this time, partly to hide how badly it was shaking, and Jon took a second before sitting on the very edge of the bed, muscles tense like he was ready to bolt at any moment. “What do you know?”</p>
<p class="western">“My name's Jonathan Sims. That-that's about it. Why can't-why don't I know anything else? What's happening?” his breathing got heavier as his eyes started to dart around the room again and before Martin could stop him, Jon shot up and pressed himself back into the corner, pulling his knees up to his chest, staring out into the room like he's looking at something truly horrifying, and for all that Martin knows, he is.</p>
<p class="western">“Jon, are you with me?”</p>
<p class="western">Silence.</p>
<p class="western">“Jon?”</p>
<p class="western">“I- I can't remember anything. I don't remember anything. I-I don't know where I am or who you are or why I'm here with you.” Martin fully expected Jon to be more upset than he seemed, but instead he was almost calm, no expression on his face at all, and that was almost worse. “I can't remember.”</p>
<p class="western">“Jon, can I sit with you?”</p>
<p class="western">Jon nodded once after a moment of consideration, and Martin sat down on the floor, slightly to one side.</p>
<p class="western">“I know you're scared, and I understand that. I'll help you through this, if you allow me.”</p>
<p class="western">“I don't <em>know you.”</em></p>
<p class="western">Martin swallowed, trying not to let the words hit him too hard. “I know. Will you let me help you anyway?”</p>
<p class="western">“I don't really have much of a choice, do I?”</p>
<p class="western">Martin had the same conversation with Jon every day for a week, until he finally managed to retain the information that Martin could in fact be trusted – but not his name. Not until today.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">-</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Going downstairs, Martin pulls out his phone and texts Georgie – he's never been more glad to know her than he has in this past month.</p>
<p class="western">
  <em>He finally remembered my name today.</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>Oh thank god. Did he remember anything else?</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>No, just that. But it's a start.</em>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <em>It's a start.</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Reintroducing Georgie is perhaps the thing Martin is most nervous about. She knew Jon before the Institute, she's known him for longer than anyone, and whilst she was the first one Martin told about Jon's memory issues, he's concerned that hearing about it and seeing it are two entirely different things. He's done his best to lay some groundwork for the both of them, but he's still apprehensive when the day comes and Georgie knocks on the door. She's brought The Admiral with her, and he's yowling about the indignity of being stuffed in a carrier as Martin ushers her in. Martin smiles briefly at the noise as Georgie sorts herself out and they make small talk that quickly peters out.</p>
<p class="western">“So.”</p>
<p class="western">“So.”</p>
<p class="western">“Is he upstairs?”</p>
<p class="western">Martin nods, and Georgie gestures for him to lead the way. “No time like the present.”</p>
<p class="western">They go in together, and Jon's eye is immediately drawn to the carrier in Georgie's hand.</p>
<p class="western">"Is that a cat?”</p>
<p class="western">Georgie laughs a little and places the carrier down to open the door and let the angry Admiral out who, after pacing the bed and sniffing at a few concerning folds in the quilt, heads straight to Jon and rolls onto his back to expose his fluffy white belly.</p>
<p class="western">“Hello beautiful.” Jon's attention is entirely focused on the cat for more than a few minutes before he finally remembers that there's other people in the room and he looks up, suddenly nervous as he sees Georgie. “Sorry. Hello.”</p>
<p class="western">“He's called The Admiral.” Georgie sits on the bed and takes up conversation easily. “I'm Georgie, I'm friends with Martin.”</p>
<p class="western">“Cats should have proper names.”</p>
<p class="western">It flows easily from there, a lot easier than it had with Martin, and there is more than a little bit of jealously mixed in with the joy of it. He gets it, the cat is easy to talk about, especially when he's being adorable chasing bits of string across the bed, but that doesn't make it easy when he considers his 'first' conversations with Jon had been fraught with nerves and terror. Georgie stays for a good few hours, and promises to come back in a couple of days time before corralling The Admiral back into his carrier and going back downstairs with Martin.</p>
<p class="western">“That was horrible.” She's never been one to mince her words, and she's not about to start now.</p>
<p class="western">“He was terrified of me for the first couple of days, that was worse.”</p>
<p class="western">“I don't know how you did it.” Georgie shakes her head.</p>
<p class="western">“It's been hard.”</p>
<p class="western">Georgie makes plans to come back two days later, and to bring the cat again since he clearly helped the conversation, and Jon, before leaving and Martin makes his way back upstairs and into the bedroom.</p>
<p class="western">“Hi.”</p>
<p class="western">Jon smiles vaguely. “Hi. Why is there cat fur everywhere?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">It's a few visits before Jon remembers Georgie and The Admiral in between and a few weeks before he remembers names, and after every one Georgie laments how horrible the process is but finally they make it there, and then the process can start all over again with Melanie and Basira.</p>
<p class="western">Every new thing Martin introduces seems to take less time to stick in Jon's brain, and it gets to the point, about six months after they bought the world back, that it only takes one or two repetitions. It's at this point that Martin is persuaded by Georgie to take a day to himself. The first time he manages an hour at the coffee shop down the road before his anxiety forces him back to the house to find the two of them sat in the garden enjoying the sun. Martin takes the chance, now Jon is comfortable with other people, to go into town more often, and to pick up shopping and other essentials. It becomes something close to pleasant, and he even starts to volunteer at a local library after Basira persuades him to do something that isn't purely for Jon's benefit.</p>
<p class="western">They do things together too – quiet things that don't require too much energy because Jon gets tired and dizzy easily. Picnics on the hill behind their house are a common theme as the weather gets nicer. Films tend to be out of the question anyway because Melanie dislikes audio description, but they spend happy hours sat around a table talking and eating. Jon's personality was always there, but as his memory gets better his acerbic wit comes back with a vengeance, and Martin has never been so glad to hear it.</p>
<p class="western">The love comes back too. It starts slowly, Jon leaning his head on Martin's shoulder as they lie on the sofa at night, then progressing to what can only be described as cuddling. Martin still sleeps on the sofa, not wanting to intrude on Jon's space, but then one night that changes.</p>
<p class="western">“I'm going to bed.” Jon announces, then doesn't move from the sofa. Martin gives him a few seconds before gently shoving him, not sure if he's simply forgot what he said.</p>
<p class="western">“Bed, Jon?”</p>
<p class="western">“I wouldn't mind. If you joined me.”</p>
<p class="western">Martin's brain short circuits. “Um. I mean-”</p>
<p class="western">“This sofa isn't very comfortable. It would make sense, that's all.”</p>
<p class="western">“If you're sure?”</p>
<p class="western">Jon nods. “I feel bad about you sleeping down here every night.”</p>
<p class="western">Martin nods numbly. “It's fine, I don't mind.” His back has been aching ever more, and the thought of sleeping on the bed is like a dream, but he'd never turn Jon out onto the sofa.</p>
<p class="western">“Please.”</p>
<p class="western">There's very little Martin can say no to when Jon says please, and so he goes upstairs and has the best nights sleep since they brought the world back. That it also includes waking up to Jon's head on Martin's shoulder is inconsequential.</p>
<p class="western">It proceeds from there. They spend every night in bed now, and Jon gets increasingly more affectionate. It's odd for Martin, to try and reconcile the prickly old Jon with this new version, but he can't deny it's not pleasant. One day, Martin lets 'love' slip between his lips, and Jon just smiles.</p>
<p class="western">“I like that.”</p>
<p class="western">“What?”</p>
<p class="western">“You calling me love. It feels...right.”</p>
<p class="western">Things aren't perfect, but they're as close as Martin thought they would ever get.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">-</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Martin is cooking dinner one night when he hears a scream from where Jon is resting upstairs. It's awful and gut wrenching and the first time this had happened, Martin had dropped everything and ran, and had to run back downstairs ten minutes later when the smoke alarm had gone off. This, the fourth time, he has enough sense to turn the oven off before going upstairs. Jon is curled on the bed, hands over his ears and head buried in the pillows as he is subsumed by memories. Martin climbs onto the bed next to Jon and pulls him close, letting him tuck his head under Martin's chin and sob.</p>
<p class="western">“Hurts.”</p>
<p class="western">“I know love, I know.” Martin kisses the top of Jon's head gently. “It'll be over soon, I promise.” Martin hates this part more than any other. Despite it meaning Jon getting his full memories back, Martin's never sure if the pain it clearly causes is worth it, and it heralds the start of the downfall back to square one. It only ever lasts about twenty minutes, and this time is no different as Jon's shaking finally starts to slow and his sobs get quieter until finally the fingers clutched in Martin's top fall lax as Jon falls asleep. He'll sleep until the morning now, and Martin knows he can go downstairs and double check the oven and the locks on the doors and getting a glass of water for the morning before returning and sliding under the covers to hold Jon once again.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">-</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The light that streams in through the window hits Martin square in the face, and he makes what he's sure is an incredibly unattractive grimace as he rolls over for a second to avoid the sun, before he remembers what happened last night, and he sits up to find Jon sat up against the headboard, staring into the middle distance.</p>
<p class="western">“Morning love. How do you feel?” Hesitant, in case the memories didn't come back this time.</p>
<p class="western">Jon manages half a smile. “Like an elephant has stampeded through my brain.” He looks over at Martin. “I remember.”</p>
<p class="western">Martin nods and reaches out a hand to tangle with Jon's fingers, not saying a word for the moment, letting the silence fall heavy around them.</p>
<p class="western">“This isn't the first time, is it?” Jon's voice is quiet and he's still looking straight ahead, but his fingers twine almost painfully hard with Martin's.</p>
<p class="western">“No. This is the fourth time. We bought the world back eight years ago.”</p>
<p class="western">Jon nods almost absent-mindedly as he absorbs this information. “What happens?”</p>
<p class="western">The conversation is familiar now, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt every time Martin has to have it.</p>
<p class="western">“After we won, you collapsed, and when you woke up, you didn't remember anything. Not me, not the Institute or Jonah, even Georgie. It was a month before you remembered my name, and it wasn't until a few months after that that you remembered enough to be able to get by. Things kept coming back slowly, but nothing about the Institute, and we thought that was it, you'd never remember it. Then you started having panic attacks out of nowhere and seemingly about nothing, until one day everything came back, like last night.”</p>
<p class="western">“But this is the fourth time this has happened?”</p>
<p class="western">Martin nods, clutches Jon's hand even tighter if that were possible. “The next few months were fine, we thought. You'd forget the occasional thing, but nothing to worry about, but then it started to get worse, and eventually one morning you woke up and didn't know who I was again.”</p>
<p class="western">“How long?”</p>
<p class="western">“About six months.”</p>
<p class="western">Jon nods slowly, still staring ahead at nothing. “It's a cycle.”</p>
<p class="western">“Yeah. A doctor we spoke to about it said cycles in mental health aren't uncommon, although he'd never seen one involving full memory loss before.”</p>
<p class="western">Jon nods again. “I think I'd like to be alone, please.”</p>
<p class="western">“Of course.” The request had hurt Martin the first time, but now he knows it's just because it's a lot to process, and so he retrieves his hand from Jon's grip, flexing it to help the circulation return to normal, and presses the glass of water he'd bought up the night before into Jon's hand. “Drink this. I'll bring some food up in an hour or so if you haven't come down.”</p>
<p class="western">Jon does come down whilst Martin is cooking, wrapped in one of Martin's jumpers and looking, in Martin's opinion, adorable. He doesn't say that though, just takes a second to make sure the cooker is off before going to sit down by him.</p>
<p class="western">“How do you feel?”</p>
<p class="western">“I'm not sure. It's. A lot to take in.”</p>
<p class="western">“I know, love.”</p>
<p class="western">Jon smiles a little at that, and leans into Martin's side. “That's nice to hear though.”</p>
<p class="western">“What, love?”</p>
<p class="western">“Mmhm.”</p>
<p class="western">“I like calling you that.”</p>
<p class="western">Jon hums a little and turns his head to tuck even more into Martin's side. He's a warm weight there, and Martin revels in the feeling that's been absent for so long. He's affectionate enough before his memories come back, but there's nothing quite like the six months when he's, well, <em>Jon. </em></p>
<p class="western">They stay like that for a while before Martin remembers the breakfast he'd been cooking, and shoves Jon gently. “Eggs and bacon?”</p>
<p class="western">“Yes please.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>-</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">They agree, silently and and mutually, to not discuss anything more important than the weather over breakfast and whilst clearing up but then they sit on the sofa again and the silence falls like an omen.It's uncomfortable, like the air before a storm, and Martin doesn't know how to break it. It's the same every time and every time Jon breaks it first.</p>
<p class="western">“I ended the world.”</p>
<p class="western">“Technically, yes. But it wasn't your choice, you were used, and you did everything you could to bring it back.” Martin has found it best to not sugar coat this first conversation, and it tends to work out for the best.</p>
<p class="western">“Used by Eli-Jonah.”</p>
<p class="western">“Yes. He was a bastard.”</p>
<p class="western">“He was. Absolutely, I remember <em>that. </em>I. I ended the world.” This is familiar too, Jon getting stuck on that one thing. Martin gets it, he does, but he wishes that sometimes Jon would remember the good times first, rather than the bad.</p>
<p class="western">“Yeah. You did.”</p>
<p class="western">Jon nods. “Okay.” He's silent for a few moments, then looks at Martin. “I remember you too though. The dog in the archives. Prentiss. Nice things too. Scotland.”</p>
<p class="western">“<em>Nice things.” </em>Martin repeats, trying not to tease but unable to help himself.</p>
<p class="western">“Shush, I'm having a very hard day. Nice things.”</p>
<p class="western">“That's always the first thing you remember, actually.”</p>
<p class="western">Jon considers for a moment. “There's a notebook?”</p>
<p class="western">Martin gets up and retrieves it from the dresser at the side of the room. Them, actually. The first thing Jon requests, when he has enough short-term memory to remember that he wants to make the request in the first place, is a notebook, and so there's four of them, and the first page of all four has the same thing written in Jon's neat handwriting.</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>His name is Martin</em>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <em>He's looking after you</em>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <em>You love him</em>
</p>
<p class="western">
  <em>He loves you?</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">The question mark at the end of the last line is scribbled out in every version of the note, from the first one barely readable after eight years, to the most recent. The rest of the information varies with each notebook, but the first page is always the same four lines.</p>
<p class="western">“Always the first thing that comes back, after my name.”</p>
<p class="western">“I could never forget you for too long.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">-</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">There's some conversations Martin knows will always happen within the first few days of Jon regaining his full memories, and the final one comes late on the third night, when they're curled up together on the sofa, Martin running his fingers through Jon's hair as they watch a TV show. They tend to avoid long shows that require extended concentration most of the time because Jon simply can't hold on to the plot between episodes, so Martin make the most of it whilst he can.</p>
<p class="western">“Martin?”</p>
<p class="western">“Hm?”</p>
<p class="western">“You don't have to stay.”</p>
<p class="western">“I want to.” Martin says simply, and every time he hopes that that will be the end of the conversation, and every time it isn't. Jon sits up suddenly and turns to look at Martin.</p>
<p class="western">“You spent so much time looking after your mum. I don't want you staying because you, I don't know-”</p>
<p class="western">“Jon, I'm not staying because I feel <em>obliged</em>,” Martin interrupts. “I'm staying because I want to. Because I love you.”</p>
<p class="western">“I love you too, but is that enough?”</p>
<p class="western">“Always.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">-</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">They go on picnics together, just the two of them and with Georgie and Melanie and Basira too, and they go to the cinema and sit in coffee shops and walk around bookshops hand in hand. Jon spends days with Georgie and The Admiral, Martin volunteers at the library, and they go for hikes together. Martin knits, Jon wears (stolen) jumpers and curls up to read books.</p>
<p class="western">They go on holiday together, weekends away to Scotland and one in Paris and a week in Devon, and they take photos, selfies on windswept hills and in front of landmarks, ones taken of each other, Martin's absolute favourite one of Jon silhouetted on the beach at sunset, one of Martin with a herd of very good Highland cows behind him, and ones taken by passers-by of the two of them together. They all go in a scrapbook labelled with the date and location, and Martin cherishes it like nothing else.</p>
<p class="western">He finds Jon looking through it one night sat at the kitchen table, a morose expression on his face. Martin suspects he knows exactly what thoughts are running through Jon's head, and goes up behind him and wraps his arms around Jon, kissing his cheek and resting his chin on Jon's head. The photo he's looking at is a favourite. They're outside the Louvre, and had just been caught in an unexpected rain storm. Martin's curls are slicked to his head but he's grinning, looking at Jon out of the corner of his eye. Jon is pretending to be grumpy, his own hair frizzing up the way it always does after it gets wet, but a smile curls at the very edge of his lips.</p>
<p class="western">“I love that one.”</p>
<p class="western">“So do I.”</p>
<p class="western">Martin releases Jon and rounds the table to sit down himself and takes Jon's hands in his own, and waits for him to speak in his own time.</p>
<p class="western">Jon sighs. “Soon I won't remember enough to miss this, but you will. I hate knowing that. I hate knowing that you'll be alone.”</p>
<p class="western">“I'm never alone, Jon. You might not remember, but you're always there. And there's Georgie and Melanie, and Basira, and the people at the library. There were so many times when we both thought you wouldn't make it through the apocalypse at all, this is more than I ever thought I'd get. I love you. It's as simple as that.”</p>
<p class="western">“Is it really that simple?”</p>
<p class="western">“Absolutely.” Martin leaves no room for argument, and for once in his life, Jon agrees.</p>
<p class="western">“I love you too.”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">-</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Martin returns to the bedroom one morning after going to the toilet and is greeted by a wide eyed and terrified Jon, pressed against the wall and eyes darting around the room. “Who are you? Where am I, what is this place?”</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">Martin closes his eyes briefly and bites his lip. <em>Time to start again.</em></p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">
  <em>-</em>
</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">(One day, Jon wakes up and, after a moment of consideration, realises it's been eight months since he got his memories back, and he hasn't forgotten anything recently either. He doesn't tell Martin, for fear of jinxing it.)</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">(One day, Martin marks off a day on his calender and realises it's been twelve months since Jon got his memories back. He doesn't tell Jon, for fear of jinxing it.)</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">(One day, they realise it's been two years, and don't mention it, for fear of jinxing it.)</p>
<p class="western"> </p>
<p class="western">(They don't jinx it.)</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>CW's:<br/>Memory loss - at first Jon can't remember anything, then it starts to come back.<br/>Panic attacks are briefly referenced<br/>Cyclical mental health issues are briefly referenced.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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